Beforehand
by erehtolah
Summary: It was almost like a dream when Freja would close her eyes. But the next time she would open them she would find herself in an unfamiliar place with no memory of before, except her name and the hope of regaining it.
1. Chapter 1

It was almost like a dream when Freja would close her eyes. She felt as if she was falling, but gently. It did not frighten her. She felt silky threads brush against her face in a warm embrace and she smiled because she knew everything was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. It was fine because it was like any other Sunday morning. Boring. Quiet. Familiar. Safe.

Her eyes fluttered open as the sun shone through the old windows of her flat. She was buried in the soft blankets of her bed, her yellow short hair a tangled mess. She sighed as she sat up and threw her blankets to the floor in disarray. Standing up she reached for the ceiling and then down to her toes as her joints popped back into place.

Freja was not a graceful sleeper.

She looked towards her windows, which overlooked her home city. She grinned. It was a beautiful cold day once again. She could wear her favorite sweater.

Slipping her feet into her slippers she made her way to her bedroom door to open it. She needed to get ready. She finally had a job interview today, and she was excited. She wanted to make her very best impression. Opening the door she looked down the hallway to her bathroom and made the treck down.

She thought to herself about her breakfast today as she turned on the lights to her bathroom. The electricity gave once again that warm familiar hum which interrupted her thought pattern. She needed to cal that electrician for the lights here. She smiled again at her absent mindedness.

Looking into the mirror, Freja sighed. She opened the cabinet and pulled out some detangler that she bought herself for her hair. The ads swore that this would do wonders for her. Freja decided to give it a shot because... What could it hurt?

And it worked. She gave a sigh of relief. Still, as she pulled a comb through her tangles, it hurt just a little. But it was okay, because Freja had a high tolerance for pain.

It was like any other Sunday Morning.

She made her way back to her bedroom and opened her wardrobe. This was surprisingly not as much of a mess as she thought it was going to be. With a sigh she pulled out her work-appropriate clothing for the day. Afterall, again, she wanted to make a good impression. After dressing, she turned around, and stopped.

Her bed was not made. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and got to work, smoothing the sheets of her blankets against her mattress and turning down the pillows, throwing some old stuffed bear she had ownd since she was a young girl onto the bed haphazardly.

She left her bedroom once more but not before grabbing everything it was that she needed to leave her flat.

She looked at the clock. She had been too leisurely with her morning so far and did not have enough time to make an adequate breakfast. Instead she opted for a generic toaster pastry and made her way out the door, grabbing her coat as she left.

Out on the busy streets of her city she nodded to the familiar people she was so used to seeing. The fruit stand owner; the traffic officer in the crosswalk, the dogwalkers and the delivery men and woman that littered the streets. She walked by a homeless man, made her way past him and then turned back. She made small talk with him and then offered him her breakfast which he accepted. Waving goodbye, smiling at each other, she continued her way to the stairs that would lead her to the subway, onto her prospective job opportunity.

She was lost in thought, and did not notice that the man she had just spoken to had stood up, and had followed her down.

However, other than this, it was like any other Sunday morning.

The underground was cold as always and had that same musty scent that she was all too familiar with. This was Freja's only means of transportation as it was fast, convenient and inexpensive.

She gave a startled gasp when a subway cart rushed past and stopped, as she was lost in thought, however it was not her cart to get onto. She was getting nervous. Freja wondered, what if the interview goes sour? What is she makes too many mistakes or her nervousness shines through.

She looked and her eyebrow raised. The homeless man was standing and waiting, it seemed, for the next train to come. Standing behind the yellow line it looked as if he was fumbling with something in his hands.

People started to fill up the underground. They were all quiet save for a group of rough looking and loud teenage boys. Freja gave a look over and then quickly turned away minding her own business. She knew not to give them any reason to bother her. As did anyone. They were known for trouble making, and being particularly vulgar...

and violent.

And even though there was no reason given, that did not stop those boys from noticing the vagabond standing by himself.

Behind the yellow line.

Behind the tracks.

You see, on top of everything else, they were also the type to believe that people like that were a plague upon society. And they saw an opportunity to deal with him.

Freja noticed this, and still waited.

The boys were gathered around him and were pushing him and pulling at the bag he carried over his back. Grabbing at whatever it was that he carried in his pocket.

She distinctly heard one of them say, something along the lines of..."..a branch? You're crazy!" .. "...something like that..." and a 'SNAP' and the man roaring and spitting and yelling at the group of boys.

No one was doing anything. Not as the old man lunged at one of the younger ones. The younger boy howled with laughter and pushed the man. Who fell onto the tracks.

No one was doing anything. Someone needed to put a stop to this. Who was going to help? No one made a move.

"Stop!" Freja yelled, throwing her belongings aside. "Leave him be! Why is no one doing anything?"

The boys laughed and shouted lewd comments at her. She got to the yellow line and stopped. She took in a breath, she was frightened. She looked down at the man, reaching up with one arm and the other holding his hip. He was hurt. And stuck.

She was frozen. She didn't know what to do. And then she felt it, a rumbling underneath her feet. People had gathered around and still no one was doing anything. A few people had their cameras out, taking pictures and filming, most likely hoping to be the first to give their input to news stations when what was about to happen was announced.

But Freja wasn't about to give them a chance with out at least TRYING to do something.

So she stepped over the yellow line, and onto the tracks herself. Everyone gasped and yet, still, no one else made a move.

And try as she might, Freja couldn't free the man, and now they were both stuck. She pulled and she lifted and yet none of her actions made any improvement.

And as the train rounded the corner, she closed her eyes.

It was almost like a dream when Freja would close her eyes. She felt as if she was falling, but gently. It did not frighten her. She felt silky threads brush against her face in a warm embrace and she smiled because she knew everything was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. It was fine because it was like any other Sunday morning. Boring. Quiet. Familiar. Safe.

Only, it wasn't. Because on this Sunday morning, at this moment, when Freja Lowes closed her eyes, and the silk brushed against her cheeks.

Today, Freja Lowes fell beyond the veil, and she died.


	2. Chapter 2

There was silence at first. Wind shook the leaves in the trees surrounding this open section in the middle of nowhere. It had rained, recently, and light tapping of water dripping onto whatever surface it touched echoed in the lonely woods.

A gathering of wildlife stood still, nibbling at freshly sprouted grass. It was peaceful.

And then, suddenly, with a loud bang and crash, it wasn't. The wildlife scattered as a woman fell out of thin air, violently hitting a few branches on her way down with a sickening crack. She lay in a heap on the damp earth, not moving a muscle.

She let out a guttural cry and a gasp of breath, woke for a moment and then fainted once again. It must of been the pain that knocked her unconsious. She wouldn't of noticed, nor cared, when a large figure slowly crept from the shadows of the tall trees; the large figure who scooped her up and carried her off to who-knows-where.

The smell of something burning and the crackle of a fireplace woke the woman gently. She weakly sat up from what was an itchy bed, and carefully pushed off the heavy...coat?...off her trembling body.

She was confused. Where was she? Who was she?

She saw out of the corner of her eye something big move. She yelped out of shock at the large man. She had never seen any one so tall or so wide. But she was intrigued.

Intrigued enough to call after him.

"...who are you?" She asked weakly.

The large man turned. He had a pipe in his mouth and was puffing from it animatedly. He removed the pipe and curled his mouth into a smile. At least, she would of seen him smile, had it not been covered by that gnarly beared he had covering his face.

"Aye. You've woken up." He said, and he stood. He walked over somewhat clumbsily. Picked up this mug filled with a beverage and carefully handed it to her. It was warm, and she eyed it suspiciously.

"No worries about it. It is tea." he said gruffly. She watched her take a sip, and saw her pull a face. "I should of warned you. I'm not all that handy in a kitchen."

The woman set the mug down once again. "Heh..." she began awkwardly. "Umm...I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"The name is Rubeus Hagrid. I'm the groundskeeper here." Hagrid answered proudly. "I've already sent for the Headmaster, he will be down to visit and check you shortly."

Headmaster? So she was at a school?

"The headmaster? Am I a student here?" she asked him. She wondered if he knew who she was. He hadn't asked her for her name so she also wondered if he knew who SHE was. "I can't... remember anything." She frowned.

"No, school is not in session. Everyone is away for the summer."

She picked up the mug once again and took another sip. She was thirsty and sore. "Where is here?"

The man named Hagrid opened his mouth to answer when there was a soft knocking at the door. "That must be the headmaster now. Just one moment, Miss."

The door opened and inside stepped a tall and slender man. He was wearing what appeared to be a purple silky bathrobe. He had spectacles and long white hair and an even longer white beard which was tied together with this gold ribbon. The man greeted Hagrid like an old friend and then turned to face the woman who was still bedridden and anxiously clutching the mug filled with 'tea'. He looked at her and she could see, as he peered at her through his glasses, that his eyes were blue, kind and wise.

And sad.

"Hello there, young lady." He spoke, and his voice was clear and powerful, but also soft. "What has befallen you? You've suffered a great deal. Are you pained at all?"

She didn't say anything at first. And then opened her mouth to speak. She heared a voice she did not recognize. "I..." she began, "...I don't know...what happened...where...who?"

She gripped her throat gently, and then moved her hand to her forehead. She rembered a light, and something brushing against her cheek. Falling from the sky and then nothing. And then she woke up here.

She knows her name at the very least.

"All I remember is my name. I don't know of anything else...and my back is sore." She looked around. And harshly asked. "Where am I?"

"You are at the groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid's hut, on the schoolgrounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the old man said matter of factly. He looked at her once more and the woman felt like someone dumped a cold glass of water upon her. He smiled.

"Miss Freja. Let us get you healed up."

Freja nodded, stood with the aid of the man called Hagrid, and followed the old man out of the hut.

 _Please feel free to leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think and accept any feedback or criticism that you have! Help me to improve! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

When Freja stepped out of the tiny hut at the edge of the forest, she looked up at the castle before her. She let in a sharp and surprised breath. She loved old architecture. She knew that, at least. With its Grey and perfectly cracked stone walls; it's long and elegant towers standing attention, with flags topping their hats; the red and orange cobblestone pathways that peppered here and there. It certainly was a sight to behold. Freja was astonished at it's beauty.

A light and hearty chuckle broke her from her stupor. The group had stopped in its tracks and suddenly Freja could feel two sets of eyes upon her, and she shuddered back down to awareness. She looked to the tall slender man and her brow furrowed.

"Yes?"

The man gave her a tiny smile. "Do you have no more questions for either of us?" he asked. "You had quite the fall, from what I've gathered."

She paused for a moment, thinking. And then she asked, "...did you say, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Freja had wondered how hard she had fallen, exactly. Surely, there could be no such thing. She did read about the witch trials of Salem as a student, but that was only accusations and superstition. There couldn't really be anything like that. It was all fairy tale. Certainly... she's stumbled upon some sort of sanitarium.

"I did." he smiled. "I am the headmaster here. My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore. Here, we teach young witches and wizards the art of harnessing and controlling their magical abilities. Their ages all range from eleven to at least seventeen. And for seven years of their lives it is not only my responsibility to watch over them, but also all of our other faculty members."

He paused, looking at the young woman to gauge her reaction. When he saw her looking awestruck, he continued.

"We teach various methods and techniques here, and focus on many styles of teaching. These classes include Potion Making, Magical History, Astrology, Muggle Studies..."

"What the hell is a muggle?" Freja exclaimed. "I've heard of all sorts of things pertaining to Wicca, but I've never heard of that before."

Dumbledore laughed. "Well...to be frank, it's you. What you are. The only reason you are still on the premises' is because I have allowed you to be here and to see what is actually here. Normally..." he paused, "You would see a castle in disarray. But you see it for the beauty it has to offer."

"It truly is beautiful, it is." Hagrid chuckled.

Freja looked around, curious. It was a lot of information to take in, discovering that magic actually exists...if it does, anyway. She was yet to see if it held any merit.

"Prove it." she demanded. "If you can do magic, really, can you show me a moment of your magical history?" She wanted to see for herself. If it truly can be done, then it should be as easy as flicking his wrist.

Which, if you knew Albus Dumbledore, all he had to do was even less than that. And she was going to learn a very valuable lesson.

"Very well," he began, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

As if looking through a mist, Freja saw what could only be described as pure terror. Masked figures running left and right, howling with laughter over sounds of crying and screaming. Shows of lights ranging from purple to red, and to green flashed upon the stage and Freja gasped as she saw people go from running away in fear to crumbling into a pile of themselves, where they had once stood. She didn't have to have this explained to her. She knew that they had been felled by these people.

And then, the appearance of one last character made her heart jump into her throat. A tall, slithery and pale figure came into her vision. He hissed, and his red eyes squinted, as he made the treck up to this small home. He opened the gate, and a cold laugh slipped through his parted lips.

"At lasssstt... I've found you!" the man sang. "Readddyyyy or noooooot, heereeeee I comeee."

And then, they all snapped back into the present.

"What was that?" she cried.

The surrounding silence was deafening. She really shouldn't of asked. Again, she knew. There had been a war, and they suffered many casualties. But what could be so truly important, that a war erupted between those who were all on the same side? Surely witches and wizards had enough going against them?

Tears began to well up in Freja's eyes. She wanted to leave.

"Are you all right, Miss Lowes?"

The feeling of cold water again. She shivered and gripped her arms against her chest.

"I feel really... truly unwell. I want to go home, wherever that is." She was starting to get anxious, as she took some deep shuddering breaths. She felt her vision shake and go hazy, and then once again she slipped into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Within moments, Freja's eyes fluttered open again. Dumbledore had cast a simple spell to awaken her from her fainting.

"There, now. You'll be fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone with no magical ability reacted that way to their first exposure to a spell."

Freja grimmaced. She looked up and saw these large creatures soaring in the sky. 'I'll have to get used to this momentarily, I guess.' Freja thought to herself. She stood up and brushed off her clothing. "Well, let us go inside, I guess. I suddenly feel overly exposed."

They begain walking again towards the castle. The closer they got, the harder Freja's heart pounded. A combination of worry and excitement made her body shake. She was curious as to the interior of the building as much as the outside. She was hoping to, at some point, get a chance to walk around and explore, to a point.

As the large doors opened to the castle, the light of the cadles flickered before their eyes. The large and open foyer welcomed them warmly. The staircase they walked up was so clean and well kept, Freja could see their reflections! "The inside is so clean!"

Both men turned and looked upon her. "Of course it is. Our caretaker keeps on top of the cleanliness here."

Freja smiled and then, frowned in thought. "What do you have in mind for me here? Is it your intention to keep me here or turn me away? Do you think you could help me regain my memory before that, at the very least?" She didn't really have anywhere to turn to and while she did not want to stay very long, she thought it wise to find somewhere to go. She could get hurt worse in her current state.

"You may stay for as long as you like. The doors of Hogwarts will always be open to anyone looking for sanctuary." the headmaster answered.

She gave a sigh of relief, and then asked, "Can we continue our tour, then, perhaps?"

Hagrid spoke, "Actually, I must tend to the animals and the grounds." And he turned to leave after saying his farewell.

"Let us pick up, once again, Miss Lowes." Albus said, as he continued his descent up the ajoining staircase.

"What is through these doors here?" She pointed to the closed double doors at the landing of the first staircase.

"That would be the Great Hall. That is where we all eat, and where the Sorting Ceremony takes place. We also hold staff and student meetings there, when needed." He smiled. "Unfortunately, our kitchen help is away for the summer holiday. We will hav to find our own way to prepare our meals."

For the next couple hours, they spent the time walking the castle corridors, as Dumbledore shared his stories and insights of the building. He talked about his time here as a student and mentioned the few... or at least a few... of his trouble-making. Freja had suspected he wasn't telling her every detail of these stories and she laughed to herself outloud.

They had finally made their way to what was the Astronomy tower, when the man spoke about an open position of being the assistant of Madame Sinistra, the Astronomy Professor.

"It won't pay much, but it'll give you something to do while you stay here. And you don't need magical abilities for the task. Just a basic knowledge of Astronomy and Astrology." he pointed to the books lining the walls. "Should you be interested, you may study from those."

"Absolutely. Maybe I could find some answers as I read as well."

It was uncomfortably quiet for a few minutes. Dumbledore sighed and then said, "Well, I best be off. You may explore the castle as you wish. But I must ask you, if something is locked, try not to let your curiosity get the best of you. The castle needs to keep it's own secrets."

And then, he was gone. Freja let out a sigh of relief. It was her first time alone in the last few hours. She liked her time to herself. She walked over to the bookcase, pulled a manuscript off the shelf, and then began reading...

A few weeks had passed, and Freja was quietly sitting in her quarters. She was eating a breakfast of toast and peanut butter when she heard a knock at the door. Setting down her plate, she brushed her hands off, swallowed the bite she had been working on, and stood.

She opened the door to see a stern looking woman standing before her, her hands folded behind her back.

"Good-morning, Minerva!" Freja said animatedly. "How can I help you?"

The woman named Minerva smiled. "I was instructed to fetch you. We are to have a staff meeting in the great hall to prepare for the arrival of our students."

The Great Hall? Freja grinned. She hadn't seen that room just yet. "Are all of the staff members going to be there?"

"No, for now, until later today at least, the House Leaders are attending the meeting." she paused, "But we needed you to meet the staff, and hear of any new changes that are happening this year."

Freja nodded. She asked for a few minutes to herself, to get ready. And a few minutes later she stepped from her quarters and asked, "Is this appropriate for the meeting?"

Minerva looked her up and down and gave a nod of approval. "Very lady-like, Miss Lowes. Let us go." 

_**End of chapter 4. Please leave a review and let me know how I am doing! Any critique is appreciated! :)**_


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